


All I Want for Christmas (is Some Goddamn Peace and Quiet)

by gaylax_ies



Series: The Annual Christmas Fic [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Dinner, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Family Fluff, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Light Angst, Multi, Swearing, Team as Family, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, lotor is my fave?? love him, this went in so many tangents wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 00:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13135800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaylax_ies/pseuds/gaylax_ies
Summary: Christmas with the Voltron family never quite ends as you'd expect it to.





	All I Want for Christmas (is Some Goddamn Peace and Quiet)

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, two works in the same goddamn year? Is Eli having a stroke??  
> Hell yes I am!!  
> It's fucking Christmas, and I figured that some vaguely sad, kind of funny Christmas bullshit was well deserved, so here you go!!  
> Like always, she's not beta read- please pardon any errors!!  
> PEOPLE - if you make art, and you'd like to/have made some for one of my fics, make sure to tag me on tumblr so i notice!! I'm making a new tag #gaylaxieswrites if you want to tag me, and you can reach me me [HERE](http://gaylax-ies.tumblr.com) on my blog!!

“Keith…” Lance whines in his ear, resting his arms over Keith’s shoulders and his chin on the top of Keith’s head. Keith just hums in response, and Lance wraps his arms around his neck, “c’mon, it’s Christmas eve. Come cuddle with me.”

“Lance, I can’t,” Keith says, eyes softening. He closes his eyes against the light from his computer screen, titling his face up. Lance leans down, kissing him softly before resting their cheeks together.

“Why not?” he asks into Keith’s ear, and Keith trembles. It takes all of his self control not to give in, ignoring his coursework and kissing Lance into oblivion. Still, he persists.

“I told you,” he says, pulling away and straightening up, “I’ve got a load of work to do by the end of the break and I don’t want to fall behind.”

Keith is expecting some retaliation from Lance, perhaps some pouty-lipped complaints or persuasive neck kisses. Instead, it feels almost like Lance deflates, and he pulls away from Keith slowly. 

“Okay,” he says, taking a few steps back, “don’t work too hard, yeah?”

Keith frowns, shutting his laptop and wheeling around in his seat. “Lance, are you okay?”

Lance freezes on his way to the door, turning to look at Keith. He plasters a wide smile on his face but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, of course! I’m fine.”

Keith gets up from his desk, stretching his hands out towards Lance. Lance takes them and Keith tugs him in close, wrapping his arms around Lance’s waist. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“What? Nothing,” Lance says, but he rests his chin on Keith’s shoulder and sinks against him, tension leaving his back.

“Lance…” he asks, resting a hand on Lance’s cheek. Lance’s eyes drift and Keith runs his thumb over Lance’s cheekbone, getting him to look at him.

“I don’t know,” Lance admits sheepishly, gaze fluttering from Keith’s face and back, “it’s just? I don’t know, Keith, it’s nothing.”

Keith sighs, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment. Then he resumes his grip around Lance’s waist, tightening it and spinning Lance around before full-body tackling him into bed. Lance goes down with a yelp, staring with a bewildered expression as Keith climbs on top of him to sit in his stomach, hands pressed firmly to the mattress on either side of Lance’s head.

“Keith? What are you-”

“I’m gonna sit here until you tell me what’s wrong,” he says, moving his hands to rest on Lance’s chest. He flexes his back, his spine cracking satisfyingly; a day of sitting at his desk didn’t do his body much good.

“It’s nothing, I swear,” Lance replies, but Keith can tell his resolve is cracking. Lance’s hands drift to Keith’s waist and Keith slaps them away.

“Nope, you’re just gonna chuck me off,” he giggles, wiggling his hips playfully. He lifts one hand, pretending to inspect his fingernails, “I’m comfy here. I’ll wait.”

“Keith, oh my god,” Lance chuckles, smiling. It’s bright this time, sunshine radiating from his deep blue eyes, warming Keith from the inside out.

“You ready?” Keith asks, running his fingers through Lance’s hair. Lance’s eyes fall shut but he doesn’t look pained or upset this time: he looks calm.

“It’s just… I don’t know, Keith. It’s dumb. But this is the first Christmas I’m spending away from my family, you know? It feels weird,” he admits. He opens his eyes, staring directly into Keith’s, seeming as though he’s searching. For what, Keith doesn’t know.

“That’s not dumb, Lance,” he says softly, “it’s a big change. Your family misses you, and you miss your family. That’s normal.”

“Yeah but I just feel like an asshole. Like, you’ve never had a true family and you’ve spent more than your fair share of Christmases alone and yet, I’m the one complaining-”

“Hey. You stop that right now,” Keith replies, firm this time. He shuffles back, sitting up straighter,  and Lance follows, “so what, I was in foster care? Yeah, it sucked, but I lived. I have a family now, a family that I’ll be seeing on Christmas day, a family that’s complete because I have you, because you gave up your chance to see your family in order to stay here with me. My pain doesn’t make your pain any less important, Lance.”

Lance blinks and his eyes fill with tears, hand coming up to cover them as he looks down. Keith gasps, fluttering his hands uselessly.

“Oh, no! Please don’t cry!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Lance replies, chuckling sadly. Keith winces.

“Don’t apologize for crying either! It’s okay to cry! Your emotions are valid!”

Lance wipes his eyes with a sleeve before looking up at Keith. His lips part in a watery smile, growing in intensity until his beaming, and then laughing, and then cackling maniacally.

“Oh my god, Keith, I love you so much,” he pants through his laughter. Keith is both perplexed and overjoyed and he just laughs along, fingers playing with the short hair at the nape of Lance’s neck.

“I love you, too,” he giggles.

“Enough to come watch the good version of ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ on the couch with me and be the little spoon so I can rub my dick on your butt?”

“Lance, I…” Keith hesitates, eyes drifting towards the stacks of unfinished paper on his desk. He worries his lip through his teeth. Lance just sighs, hooking his hands around the backs of Keith’s thighs and shuffling towards the edge of the bed. He lifts Keith as he stands, carrying him towards the door.

“Lance!”

“You took care of me, now it’s your turn,” Lance replies, “I’m not letting you work yourself into the ground, especially not on Christmas. Your homework will still be there come Boxing Day. Now let’s go cuddle.”

Keith settles against Lance as he walks, resting his chin on Lance’s shoulder. “You’re the best.”

“I know.”

“…I take it back.”

“Hey! C’mon, Keith, were you really expecting anything different from me?”

“I guess I wasn’t.”

 

“It feels weird not opening presents on Christmas morning,” Lance says for probably the fourth time in the hour since they woke up. Keith sighs into his mug.

“Lance, you can open presents now if you want. I’m not gonna stop you,” he says, struggling to school his smile off his face. Lance just shrugs, slinging his legs over Keith’s lap as they sit on the couch.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll wait ’til everyone’s here. At least you aren’t making me go to church,” he chuckles. He grabs Keith’s mug and takes a swig of his coffee, and Keith hisses but otherwise doesn’t resist.

“Start preparing to be awake, Keithy,” Lance continues, “Hunk and Pidge’ll be over by four and Hunk’ll need to use the oven, so we should at least have the kitchen and dining room decorated by the time they get here.”

“Remind me again why we chose to host Christmas dinner? I mean, Hunk’s already cooking everything; wouldn’t be easier for to just have it at his place? That way, he doesn’t have to carry a huge turkey to the fifteenth floor.”

“True, true,” Lance replies, “but we’re the ones with the swanky new apartment that’s big enough to have an eight foot Christmas tree. And, like… yeah.”

“And yeah?”

“Hunk and I were talking and, well… he and I thought I might feel better about, like, not being with my family if we had Christmas here? Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Quit apologizing,” Keith replies, smacking Lance’s leg gently, “just let me finish my coffee and we can get to decorating.”

Lance beams, reaching across the couch to ruffle Keith’s hair. “Thanks, Keith.”

“Shut it.”

 

“Knock, knock, guys, coming in!” Hunk shouts from the doorway before nudging it open with his hip. He’s got a large canvas shopping bag around one shoulder and a large pan in his arms, obscuring all of his torso and part of his face as he walks in. Still, he’s beaming.

“Merry Christmas!” he shouts as he toes his shoes off in the doorway. 

Lance bounds up, smiling, and throws his arm over Hunk’s shoulders in a partial hug. “Hey, Hunk! Merry Christmas to you, too! Need a hand with anything?”

“Nope. I’m all good, just gotta set this stuff in you kitchen. Pidge should be coming up with the rest of the food in a second.”

Sure enough, Pidge is struggling down the hallway behind him, laden with two more huge bags. She looks up, seeing Lance staring at her from the apartment, and scowls.

“I don’t need any fucking help! I can do this!” she shouts.

“Good,” Lance replies with a shrug, “I wasn’t offering.” He turns on his heel and pulls the door shut behind him, smirking when he hears Pidge’s aggravated yell from the hallway. 

“Ah, whoa, Hunk-” Keith yelps from the kitchen, and Lance cocks his head. He pads across the apartment, stopping in the kitchen doorway to take in the scene. 

Hunk has his arms wrapped tightly around Keith’s waist, entrapping his arms in his embrace, lifting Keith a foot and a half off the tile. Keith is tense but he doesn’t otherwise resist, letting Hunk swing his legs back and forth happily.

“Hunk, stop attacking my boyfriend,” Lance chuckles, leaning against the doorframe with a warm smile. Hunk sets Keith back down and steadies him on his feet, and Keith scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Sorry, sorry,” Hunk says, patting Keith’s shoulder, “it’s just… it’s Keith! I haven’t seen him in so long!”

“Ahh, yeah, sorry,” Keith replies, looking at the floor sheepishly, “I’ve been pretty caught up at school lately; I’m behind in history and I’ve still got a lot of unfinished pieces for my gallery and-”

“Keith, chill,” Pidge interrupts, appearing in the doorway. She hands her bags off to Hunk. “We don’t blame you for not being around. School’s been hell for all of us.”

“Not me, fuckers,” Lance interjects, “I got my bachelor’s, I’ve got a job, I’m all set.”

“Yeah, same,” Hunk adds, “so school’s only really hell for the two of you.”

“Oh, shut your fucks up,” Pidge mutters, “and, Lance, Matt’s lost again. Give him a call?”

Lance barks out a laugh and rolls his eyes, pulling his phone out from his pocket. “Of course Matt’s lost again.” He plods out of the kitchen and down the hallway, the faint sound of him saying “hey, dumb-fuck,” trailing along behind him.

Keith watches him go, smiling after him for a moment before turning back to the bag of food he’d been emptying. “Hey, Hunk, does this need to be reheated?”

“Yeah, just plonk it into the microwave for a while and then pass it to me. I’ll put it in a dish and stick it into the oven.”

“The oven? I thought everything was cooked already,” Keith questions, frowning at the Tupperware container of mashed potatoes as he puts them in the microwave. _“Are mashed potatoes even cooked in the oven?”_ he wonders.

“Yeah, your oven’s just on warming. It’ll keep everything nice and hot until everyone comes,” Hunk explains, fighting off the smirk that threatens to form on his lips.

“Our oven has a warming setting?”

“Oh my god, Keith, have you ever cooked in your life?” Hunk exclaims, cackling as he slaps his own forehead. Keith shrugs.

“Instant noodles.”

“Keith, how are you still alive?”

“I ask myself that every single day.”

“I got Matt back on track,” Lance says, appearing in the kitchen again and casing Keith to jump out of his skin.

“Nice, where is he?” Pidge asks, ignore the scene that Hunk makes of rubbing Keith’s back as Keith braces against the counter, struggling to catch his breath.

“Like, ten minutes away. Keith, you good?”

Keith shoots him a shaky thumbs up, and Lance frowns but otherwise doesn’t question it. Instead, he takes a few steps over towards where Pidge has made herself at home atop one of their counters, wrapping his arms around her in greeting. She hugs him back, resting her chin on her shoulder, and when he pulls away he doesn’t move far, keeping his arm around her waist. As he looks around the kitchen, he beams.

“Lance, I don’t trust that face,” Hunk teases, smiling just as warmly as he rests back against the opposite countertop next to Keith.

“Frick off, Hunk,” Lance chuckles, rolling his eyes, “this is great and you know it.”

Hunk nods, humming in agreement before they all lapse back into silence again, contentment weighing heavy in the air around them.

“Well, isn’t this a fucking party.”

The entire room jumps, as through they were charged with electricity, everyone spinning to face the intrusion.

Shiro and Allura are stood in the entryway to the kitchen, eyeing the group with both amusement and curiosity. Allura has a large Ikea bag, full to the brim with brightly wrapped packages, strung over her shoulder.

“Did someone die?” she asks, “is that why we’re being so solemn?”

“Was it Matt?” Shiro tacks on.

“No, you dumb-fucks,” Pidge mutters, rolling her eyes, “no one’s dead.”

“We _were_ enjoying each other’s company in peace, until some people showed up,” Lance spits in mock anger, rolling his eyes.

“Well, glad we interrupted that, then,” Allura says cheerfully, ignoring Lance as he sticks his tongue out at her. She takes a few steps into the kitchen, kissing both of Keith’s cheeks before handing him her Ikea bag. “Be a dear and put those under the tree.”

“Do it yourself, you lazy hoe,” Keith mutters, but he kisses her back and takes the bag from her willingly, padding out of the kitchen towards the living room. Allura flips him off behind his back.

“So, who are we missing?” Shiro asks, walking further into the kitchen to settle against one of the countertops, arms crossed lazily over his chest.

“Shay,” Hunk rattles off on his fingers, “she’ll be here a little late. Matt’s on his way- he’s picking up Coran. And who fucking knows what’s up with Lotor.”

“Is that fuckwad even coming?” Keith wonders, coming back into the kitchen and perching on the counter next to Lance.

“Who knows?” Lance replies, “I called him last week to ask and he said, and I quote, ‘not on my damn life.’ But then he called Keith and invited himself over, so it’s a toss up at this point.”

As if on cue, the apartment door opens and a long, black leather-clad leg steps in, the heels of Lotor’s designer boots clicking on the tile of the entryway. 

“Make way, fours: a ten has arrived.”

“I’m an eleven so shut the fuck up,” Allura says without missing a beat. Lotor flips her off as he delicately removes his boots with his free hand.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” Lance whispers into the hair above Keith’s ear, causing Keith to giggle uncontrollable. Lotor levels a glare at him.

“Gossiping about me, are we?” he asks with a raised eyebrow, not taking his eyes off Keith even as he approaches Shiro, clasping his shoulders and kissing both of his cheeks.

“Just talking about how much we love you,” Keith shoots back, allowing Lotor to kiss his cheeks next. He even kisses back, and he and Lotor both grimace at each other exaggeratedly as they pull back.

“So, when are we getting this fucking party started?” Lotor asks, as he makes the rest of his rounds about the kitchen, embracing everyone in the room with varying degrees of enthusiasm. 

“It starts right the fuck now!” Matt yells from the entryway, kicking off his boots. Shay giggles from behind him, popping out from behind the door. Coran steps in behind her, already shaking his head in amusement.

“Hi, everyone!” Shay says, waving. She holds up a large bag, “Lance, do these go under the tree?”

“Yup! Here, pass ‘em to me, I can put them away for you,” Lance replies, springing to action. Shay brushes his offer away with a wave of her hand, heading towards the living room as Matt comes barging into the kitchen.

“Sup, fuckers! It’s Christmas!”

“Yeah, Matthew, we fucking know,” Lotor mutters, pulling Matt in to kiss his cheeks. Matt snarls, immediately raising a hand to wipe his face, but he squeezes Lotor’s shoulders all the same.

“Are we all ready for dinner?” Hunk asks, watching the scene with a smile. “I mean, I know you just showed up, but I’ve been cooking all day and the scent of food if maddening at this point so please, for the love of Christ, let me eat some goddamn mashed potatoes before I cannibalize Lotor.”

“What? Why me?” Lotor yelps in mock offence, pressing a hand to his chest daintily, “never mind, I know. It’s because I’m the most delicious.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely the reason,” Pidge mutters, “it’s not because we all want you dead, not at all.”

“Fuck you, Pidgeon.”

“Watch your profanity, you dick-face,” Hunk mutters, taking dishes out from the oven. He shoves a tray piled high with bread rolls into Lotor’s arms, sending him out into the dining room. He hands more plates off to the rest of his friends until the nearly the entire meal is set out on the table, filling the dining room with delicious scents. 

“Do you need help carving the turkey?” Lance asks as Hunk removes its large dish from the oven. Hunk just smiles and removed the tin foil covering it. 

“Nope,” he replies, “I pre-carved it because I don’t trust any one you with anything sharp. Especially not Keith: if he saw an electric knife I think he’d be so excited that he’d have a heart attack.” 

“Okay, true,” Lance giggles, balling up the tin foil and throwing it away. Then he follows Hunk out into the dining room where everyone else is already sat. 

Upon seeing the turkey dish in Hunk’s arms, everyone starts cheering, raising their arms and whistling rowdily. Hunk just blushes, setting the meat down in the middle of the table and taking his seat next to Shay.

“Alrighty, everyone,” Lance says, standing at the head of the table and raising a bottle of red wine, “thank you all for coming to be here with us this Christmas. Not all of us could be with our families this season, and some of us don’t even have biological families to go home to. However, we’ve found a family in each other. So to family, and to each other, and to a mediocre 2017 and a hopefully better 2018!”

“Hurrah!” Pidge and Matt yell, raising their empty wine glasses in the air. The rest of the room follows suit, erupting in cheers. Lance beams down the table as he pours himself a glass of wine before handing it off to Coran to pass it around the table. Then he takes his seat, setting his hand on Keith’s leg under the table. Keith looks up at him, smiling warmly, and Lance’s chest feels light. 

 

“It’s time for some fucking presents!” Pidge yells, hopping up off the couch. She trips over Lotor’s ankle, and he stares down at her in concert for a second before he busts out laughing, cupping his hands over his mouth as his chest heaves.

“Oh my god, Pidge, oh my fucking _god_ that was so funny,” he pants, choking on his words. Pidge rolls over onto her back and glares at him for a moment before laughing along. Lotor reaches out, offering her his hand and helping pull her back up.

“Watch your legs, fuck-nugget,” she mutters, tugging at a strand of his hair. He swipes at her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her over so she topples into his lap. He stands up, cradling her in his arms like a baby and walking across the living room to the tree, Pidge shouting all the while.

The rest of the crew watches them for a while, everyone smiling, before following them towards the tree. They sit in a semi-circle, and Keith leans heavily into Lance’s shoulder.

“Lance?” he whispers into his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“It’s Christmas.”

 

It takes them nearly three hours to get through all of the presents, and by the end of it, they’re all drunk and covered in ribbons. Pidge is fawning over the new tech and video games that she’d received, and Keith is idly fidgeting with the rainbow butterfly knife Lotor had gotten him. 

Shiro had been terrified when Keith had opened the package, staring wide-eyed at Lotor.

“Aren’t those illegal in-”

Lotor presses his finger to Shiro’s lip, “shhhh. Look at how happy he is.”

Everyone’s spread across the living room in various states of intoxication and undress, enjoying each other’s company. Matt is sprawled across Lotor’s bare stomach, his own shirt balled up in the corner with a press-on bow stuck to his left nipple, and Shiro is lying with his head on Matt’s leg, his arm across the room.

“What is it with this family and stripping at get-togethers?” Hunk asks, curled up in a love seat with Shay. He’s not one to speak, however, seeing as he’d dropped his pants in the kitchen, giving everyone an amazing view of his buffalo-check boxers.

“It wouldn’t be a Voltron family gathering without some stripping,” Allura replies from where she sits on the couch with Lance’s head in her lap, stroking through his hair idly. She’s swapped her shirt for Shiro’s which hung down over her bare thighs.

“Why did we even decide to call ourselves Voltron? It’s such a dumb nickname. Why couldn’t we have been the Altea Host Club or something?” Matt asks. The rest of the room collectively flips him off.

“We’re Voltron, Matt; accept it or leave,” Coran says. He’s watching the scene from Lance and Keith’s lone armchair, the only one in the room who’s still respectable dressed.

They all lapse back into comfortable silence, and Keith puts his knife on the coffee table and flops over to fully lie on Lance, who’s arms come up to loop around him, scratching his back idly and humming in his ear. They stay quiet for a few more minutes, Mariah Carey playing softly in the background, Shiro and Shay even nodding off to sleep where they lie.

Lotor raises a hand towards the ceiling, staring through his fingers as though he’s deep in though.

“I love you guys,” he says softly, as though he’s embarrassed to admit it. Matt pats his leg.

“We love you too, even though you’re a piece of shit sometimes,” Keith says, reaching in his general direction as an attempted reassurance.

“I’m so glad I found a family as good as you guys,” Hunk adds on, eyes trained on the floor. Lance reaches across Allura’s lap to find Hunk’s hand, and he grips tight. He knows that Hunk is thinking of his parents- half of the people in this room probably are- and he aches for them.

“No matter what, we’re family,” he whispers, “all of us. We’re with each other till the end of the line.”

The room falls silent again, aside from hushed sniffles and sad, muted gasps; the sounds of people fighting back tears. The sadness permeates the air but it’s not crushing, not destructive: instead, it’s comfortable, heartache shared by all.

It’s a reminder that they’re not alone.

One by one, they drift off to sleep where they lie, curling up around each other’s bodies, clutching one another closely, and they know that everyone will still be there when they wake up, because that’s just how family works.

They’re with each other till the end.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Like always, feel free to leave kudos or a comment, I love hearing from you!! Remember to hit up my tumblr if you'd like.  
> Well, that's a wrap from me for 2017!! I'll see you all in 2018- Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!!


End file.
